


Perfectly Wonderful

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, Incest, Pining, Robot Surgery, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:55:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Grace needs Diego's help with a loose wire.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Grace Hargreeves
Comments: 1
Kudos: 63





	Perfectly Wonderful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [listlessness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessness/gifts).



Grace did not often do her own repairs. As important as it was to keep herself up to date, it could be a bit like scratching an itch between the shoulder blades. It could be done, but it would be awkward to ask someone else to do it, and even more awkward to try to do it alone. 

There was a loose wire in Grace's back. She could _feel_ it, every time she moved her shoulders a certain way, or leaned forward. And if it was in literally any other part of her body, she would have been able to carefully cut her synthetic skin open and adjust it. She could, in theory, turn her whole head around, but her shoulders still didn't let her arms turn that way, so she would have to adjust _other_ things, and at that point why didn't she just ask for help with the issue in the first place?

The loose wire would occasionally send an uncomfortable little little zap through her back, and it would make her fingers twitch. She had already broken a plate when it had gone off, and now she was stuck in the unpleasant spot of needing to fix it. She couldn't ask Pogo - his eyesight was going, and the last time she'd asked for a repair, it he had managed to clip a rather important wire, and then they'd had to ask Diego to solder it shut.

That had been nice, though, the way Diego's fingers had carefully slid into her arm, and he had soldered her shut, and sewn her skin closed with his delicate fingers. She was almost tempted to ask him to fix her with that, but there was something so _intimate_ about her back. The idea of his fingers reaching into torso made her fans overheat, she licked her lips, trying to ignore the way her thoughts were going a little fuzzier. Maybe that was the loose wire, if everything felt so slightly out of tune. 

She rolled her shoulders, in an attempt to manage the itch, and there was another little _zap_ down her back, and her fingers twitched. She made a face, and another zap hit her. 

There really wasn't any way for her to manage this on her own, was there? Well, hopefully Diego wouldn't find it too... untoward. She'd learned a long time ago that her children didn't have the foggiest idea as to what was going on in her head. It wasn't as if he'd be able to know what it was she was thinking as she thought it, even if he had the humming, buzzing wires of her _self_ in his hands. The same way she wouldn't be able to know his thoughts, even if she held his brain in her hands. 

That was an unusually gory image, and she wasn't sure what the shiver that ran through her meant, exactly. Then there was yet _another_ zap. If she was a human, she might have groaned. Reginald hadn't approved of any of that sort of emotional outburst, and as such, she didn't have the access to it. She had been editing her code in small, subtle ways, and even frowning like this wasn't a thing he would have approved of. 

She was... she didn't know what it was that she was feeling, apart from the irritating itch in her back. It was worse than an itch, because it was _under_ her skin, deep in the depths of her, and it was making her crazy. Could she go crazy? How did she know that the problem in her back wasn't causing her some other kind of trouble, and possibly having an impact on her brain? She'd already had her programming against her will before, and that had been... she didn't ever want that again. Now that she was the one who was altering herself, it was different. This wasn't her 

Grace sighed, venting more hot air as her fans kicked up, and then she went to the telephone, with its long, winding cord. She was going to have to ask for help about this, as much as she didn't want to. It was embarrassing, to have to ask her son for help like this, but it would be more embarrassing if she ended up having some kind of glitch at the wrong moment, and seriously damaging herself.

If she ever broke, she wasn't sure that she'd be able to be fixed. Was there anyone with Sir Reginald's genius in the world anymore?

It was best to bite the bullet and just get it done.

* * *

"You sounded worried over the phone," said Diego, and he looked genuinely anxious. "Are you okay, Mom?"

"I'm okay," Grace assured Diego. He was wearing a regular t-shirt, and she wanted to put her hands on his shoulders, to run her fingers through his hair. "I do need to ask a favor, though. I'm sorry for the inconvenience." 

"It isn't an inconvenience, Mom," said Diego, and he put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Which was lovely, but then her shoulders tensed up, and that set off that damned wire in his back, which made her hand shake and her face contort. "Mom?" 

"I need you to help me with a repair," said Grace. She wished, faintly, that she could blush. This seemed like a situation that would be good for blushing.

"Of course," said Diego. "Is it your arm again?" His fingers were trembling as they went to her inner arm, and she tried not to shake too much as his fingers traced over the scars on the inside of her wrist where he had sewn her shut. 

"No," said Grace. "It's silly, but I've got a loose wire in my back." She wanted him to touch her back. She wanted him to touch all of her, and he was her _son_ , she shouldn't have been thinking about him like this, but it was making her whole self feel warm and tingly, as her fans began to blow a little louder. The internal clicks and ticks in her torso were getting louder, and she wasn't sure what was making her that much louder, but she didn't... mind, per se. She didn't think any of her children had ever bothered to understand what all her inner workings meant, or how they... well, worked.

"Can Pogo help?" Diego looked nervous. 

"If you don't think you can do it," Grace began.

"No, no," Diego interrupted, and he looked flustered. "No, I'd be happy to help, it's just, uh..." He cleared his throat. "Do you think that Pogo could do a better job?"

"The poor dear's eyesight isn't as good as it used to be," Grace said, and didn't really have anything else to say about it. How did you politely say "the only other person who kept me company for who even knew how many years is going blind and vaguely senile in his old age" without sounding like some kind of monster?

"Right," said Diego, and he cleared his throat. "Well, I'll be happy to help. I just might need you to, um... direct me." 

"Right," Grace echoed. She smiled at him brightly, and he smiled back at her, clearly nervous. "This will be done in a jiffy, and then we can have dinner."

"If I'm going to perform _surgery_ on you, you don't need to make me dinner," Diego said, and he looked faintly scandalized. 

"I'll be fine, Diego," Grace said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. 

"If you're sure," said Diego, and he trailed off, cleared his throat. "So what do you need me to do?"

"Well," said Grace, "first I'm going to need you to help me unzip my dress."

Diego turned redder. 

* * *

Sir Reginald Hargreeve's old workroom was not used that often. It was imbued with the man's presence, and it did something to Grace to watch her son rummage through his father's tools. 

"Are you sure it's a good idea for me to be the one to do this?" He was fumbling a bit with a wrench. 

"I can talk you through it," she assured him. 

"I know Luther has more experience working with... electronics," said Diego, and there was a pained look on his face. She wasn't sure if it was because he was admitting that Luther knew more than he did, or because he hated to acknowledge that she was, in fact, electronic. 

"If we need the extra help we can ask for it," said Grace, and she sat down on the bench carefully, leaning forward. "Would you be so kind as to unzip my dress, please?" The sitting jostled the loose wire, and another zap hit her. 

"Right," said Diego. He sounded like his mouth was dry. His hands were very warm as they rested on her back, and she wanted to push herself into them, to feel the heat sink into her bones. 

She missed being touched, she was realizing, and that was a surprise. She hadn't thought of that, hadn't even considered the fact that it was a thing she _could_ miss. 

Diego's fingers were delicate as they pulled down the zipper, and the delicacy seemed to be mixing with the discomfort, which made it… moreso. Some kind of strange intense, novel sensation that made her whole body seize. She was _aware_ of the heat of his hand, aware of the way his fingers were so delicate along her back. 

“Where’s the b-b-b-bad wire?” Diego’s voice was shaking, but both of his hands were flat on her back now, on either side of the open mouth of the zipper. 

“It’s between my shoulder blades,” said Grace. “You’ll be able to see it, it may need to be replaced.”

“Replaced,” Diego echoed. “I’m n-n-not sure I can d-d-do that.”

“You can,” Grace assured him. “I know you can.” She needed him to. She didn’t know what she’d do otherwise, other than endure, and she had spent enough of her time enduring that she didn’t know if she could anymore.

"So what do I do when I find it?" Diego's hands were stroking along the line of her back, on either side of her spine. 

Grace outlined the technique he'd need to do - the way he'd need to cut her open carefully, how to replace the wire, solder it in. She was in autopilot as she explained it, and she wasn't being distracted by the way Diego's fingers stroked along her back. 

"Right," Diego said, and he gave an awkward laugh. "And you're okay with being awake for this?"

"I need to be, Diego dear," Grace said carefully. "If I'm not awake, then I won't be able to help you." She wanted him to pull her hair. She wanted his hands on her face, she wanted to kiss his sweet mouth, she wanted to feel the warmth of his body against her own, she wanted...

This wasn't what she usually wanted. Or at least, what she admitted to wanting. 

She had once read a human being describe their own thought processes as like a duck, where there was the seemingly effortless gliding on top of the water, while quite a lot of independent movement was going on below the waterline. There was the main thought process, and then the under thought processes that they didn't think about.

Grace wasn't like that. She was _aware_ of all of her thoughts, all those little packets of programming and self tucked away in the different parts of her mind. If they weren't opened then she didn't usually feel them or think them, but she always knew they were there. This was a particular packet that she hadn't opened, wasn't even sure why it had been created in the first place, and yet. 

It was still there, and now it seemed to be opening on its own. 

"Diego," said Grace, and the hands on her bare back paused. They were resting on either side of her bra strap.

"You okay, Mom?" Diego's hands were still steady, then he paused. "I'm gonna need to take this off, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," said Grace. "Do you need my help?"

"It's not the first time," Diego said, and she could almost see him blushing as he realized what he said. He cleared his throat, and then his fingers were unclipping the bra. Her breasts, released from the tightness of the bra, sagged a bit, and then his fingers felt along the indentations in her skin left behind by her bra. "I think you need to be refitted, Mom," he said.

"How do you know all about these things, hm?" Grace tried to keep her tone teasing as Diego's delicate fingers made her tremble. Another zap hit her, and she tried not to whimper. There was pain and there was... something else, something else she didn't know how to describe it, except that it seemed to be engulfing her. 

"Eudora and Allison," said Diego, then; "I'm going to... t-t-to cut you now, okay?"

"I trust you, Diego," Grace said, as Diego's hands left her completely. The blade of the scalpel was cold against her skin, and then there was the sensation of the cutting. It didn't hurt, per se, but it was... uncomfortable. 

"Okay," Deigo said, and he was breathing very carefully. 

Diego's fingers were beneath her skin now, and the intimacy of it made her feel as if she was full of excess electricity. She was half afraid she'd end up giving him some kind of electric shock. His breath was very warm on the back of her neck. 

"I can see the bad wire," said Diego, his voice quiet, and he was grasping it carefully. He ended up brushing against something else as well, and Grace's internal lights flashed, then went dimmer. She was drowning in sensation, and it wasn't a sensation that she knew how to describe. 

"Very good," Grace said, and she kept her voice calm. "Do you know what to do next?" 

"Of course," said Diego. "I remember what you said." His fingers were much more sure, as they made their way through her wires. She was deep enough inside of whatever sensation she was drowning in that she wasn't sure if she could actually give him any kind of instructions. At least he didn't seem to need it. 

It was so _different_ from when Sir Hargreeves had repaired her. She was almost drifting, as if she wasn't attached to herself, but she was still _here_. She was inhabiting her body, inasmuch as she ever did, and Diego's big, warm body was so close to hers. She felt like a person, but also like a machine. More like a person, in this case. 

Diego was talking to her, and she wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying, just riding the wave of his words as they washed over her. 

“Okay,” he said, “and then we’re going to just…” She tuned it out, and luxuriated in the sensation of his fingers inside of her. He was brushing against specific things, and then there was the _click_ of the wire cutters, and the bad wire was cut out;. Her fingers immediately sagged open, and it went numb. She wasn’t sure she liked that. 

He was very careful as he worked the wires back together, and he was fiddling with something, brushing against something else. Sir Reginald Hargreeves had always worn his gloves when he repaired her, like a real surgeon. Diego’s bare fingers were touching her wires, possibly the first time she’d ever been touched like that with bare fingers, and she was giddy with it. 

Her fans were going faster, and she was beginning to feel like she was overloading. 

“Mom?” Diego’s voice was a long way off, and one of his hands was resting carefully on the back of her neck. “Mom, I’m going to reattach the wire now.”

“Alright,” said Grace. She sounded faintly dazed, didn’t she? “I trust you, Diego.”

“I know,” he said, and he pressed his forehead against the back of her head. His breath was ticklish inside of her torso cavity, and it made some small bit of programming inside of her stutter. Had she ever been this close to someone else? 

Diego kissed the back of her head awkwardly, and she wasn’t sure what that meant, except that it made her fans kick up all over again, and then she was flashing more lights, as the sensations and the overload ran over her. 

The wire was reconnected, and Diego had done… she didn’t even know what it was that he had done, but she could curl her fingers again, and he was touching her still, adjusting who knew what inside of her. The sensation of him touching her seemed to just build and _build_. She wanted him to do something, but she didn’t know what it was that she wanted.

“I think you’ve got some dust here,” said Diego, and his voice seemed to be very quiet. “Can I -”

“Be careful,” Grace said, before she could think, and then his fingers were gently rubbing along a circuit board.

“I can be careful, Mom, don’t worry,” Diego said. “I won’t hurt you, don’t worry.”

“I meant y-y-you,” Grace said. The intensity of the sensation was beginning to crest, his human warmth sinking into the warmth of her machine parts, molding together. “I don’t want you to be shocked.”

“You won’t be able to sock me,” Diego promised, and his fingernail caught on a wire, before he hurriedly untangled her. It was a bit like having her back scratched, only _moreso_. 

That was enough to send her over… whatever she had been hovering over, and then she seemed to be erupting. Her eyes were flashing - she could see the reflection of them on the wall. The pleasure throbbed through her in time with the electric pulses of her own body, and she stayed very still and trembled, her chest heaving. 

“Mom?” Diego sounded panicked. “Mom? Mom!”

“I’m alright, Diego,” Grace slurred. “Thank you, Diego, darling.” What was she thanking him for? She wasn’t even sure. 

“Are you alright?” He came around to look her in the face, and she let her eyes dart down to crotch at least once, just to see. He didn’t seem to be hard, but then again,it could be difficult to tell in his combat gear. And why would he be in the first place, if he didn’t even know what this was doing to her? 

Should she tell him?

Grace took his hand, and she squeezed it. There was no zap this time. “I’m absolutely wonderful,” she told him. “Absolutely wonderful.”


End file.
